


Lady Emmeline's Cat

by Haberdasher



Category: Original Work
Genre: Animals, Gen, Nobility, Wealth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-23 23:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17089670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberdasher/pseuds/Haberdasher
Summary: The story of a Lady and her cat.





	Lady Emmeline's Cat

Lady Emmeline had always been eccentric (rich as she was, the word “eccentric” was invariably used to describe her, more straightforward terms only referring to those of humbler means), but only in her old age did she begin to study the occult, calling herself “a first-class witch.”

(Relatives, peeved at her liberal dispersal of the family fortune and her devoting attention solely to her own affairs, would in private describe Lady Emmeline with a different word, one that merely rhymed with “witch”, though they had no problem with adding that she was a “first-class” one.)

At an age when many ladies turned to sewing or cribbage, Lady Emmeline turned to witchcraft, or what passed for witchcraft in her mind at any rate. She burned incense, apparently unconcerned with how their strong herbal scents seeped into the antique furniture. She kept a variety of candles lit at all hours, either not knowing or not caring how easy it would be for one of their number to topple over. And she etched some arcane pattern into the ground across a number of rooms, absolutely ruining otherwise-gorgeous oak floors that had been installed only a few years prior. She refused to take on a caregiver or move to a senior facility, no matter how many times her concerned relatives suggested as much, seemingly more concerned with her independence than her health. The only companion or supervisor she needed, Lady Emmeline would always claim, was her cat, and indeed the cat in question- not a purebred as would best befit her station, but a mongrel of a brown tabby found in some shelter that had doubtlessly gotten a sizable check out of the deal- was constantly to be found by her side.

When she was informed that she had cancer and that her future lifespan was to measured not in years but in months or even weeks, the more level-headed members of society might be forgiven in their assumption that this news would bring Lady Emmeline back to reality and that she would accept the help she had previously shunned, or even check herself into hospice, but this was not the case. Indeed, she instead became all the more reclusive and dove all the more heavily into her “witchcraft”, though she explained to nobody what all this magic of hers was meant to be accomplishing.

It was perhaps a stroke of luck, given how infrequent her visitors were these days, that a great-nephew happened to stop by Lady Emmeline’s house only a few hours after her fit began. What exactly had befallen her none were entirely certain, as her symptoms were not a logical progression of her cancer, and the doctors could come up with no alternate explanation. What was certain was that something terrible had happened to Lady Emmeline, for they found her twitching and writhing, unable to stand up on her own, and after that day she spoke not a single word, only reacting in garbled shrieks and murmurs. Her cat, for its part, was still by her side when they found her, wide eyes watching its master’s every movement though it could do little to assist.

The time had come, her relatives soon agreed, and so Lady Emmeline was sent away to hospice, with her in no state to argue the point. There, too, she struggled, not only mute but either unable or unwilling to cooperate with even the most basic of the nurses’ commands. Her condition, precarious to begin with, grew worse by the day, and within the month she passed away.

(It took four days before a niece thought to stop by her house and feed the cat. The niece worried when she realized how much time had lapsed without anyone taking care of the cat, but upon arriving she discovered that while the family had many issues to deal with, the cat’s health was not one of them. The little animal had apparently opened the closet that held its meals and gorged itself on dry food and treats, leaving it fatter and sleeker than ever. The cat had also made a right mess of the place in the process, including scattering about and dirtying a number of Lady Emmeline’s personal papers and scratching up several of her finest pens; the niece called up a housekeeping agency posthaste.)

The funeral was a modest affair, and only a handful of relatives and other well-wishers came to pay their respects. It came as rather a shock to all of them when the will was read and they found out that the sole beneficiary of Lady Emmeline’s will was not any of them, but instead that dratted cat, who was to be allowed to freely roam the family’s ancestral home until the end of its natural life.

The legal battle began immediately, as none were willing to cede their stake in the family fortune to a mere animal. Claims were bandied about that the will was illegitimate, but Lady Emmeline had gone through every bit of red tape needed to make it valid, and it was dated the week before her fateful collapse, so the odds of finding a more recent will were slim to none. Still, the challengers persevered as weeks of being bogged down by the legal system turned to months. Though some half-joked that they should just let the cat starve and bring an end to their legal troubles that way, the same soft-hearted niece who had checked up on the cat during the hospice stay looked after it following Lady Emmeline’s death, though it seemed to manage well enough even when left alone. The cat never warmed up to the niece like it had to Lady Emmeline, but it seemed content to at least stay in the same room as her, watching her every move from a far corner, eyes wide and gleaming in a way that always sent a shiver down her back.

Nearly a year later, the niece arrived on the estate for her regular check-up to find that the old family home was no more, with just an ash-covered foundation and smoking debris in the place of the once-grand property. A thorough investigation was conducted, but no conclusive evidence of foul play was ever found, nor any suggestion of who would have wanted the place destroyed to begin with; however, careful searching turned up remnants of an open matchbook at the point of the fire’s origin, positioned next to a line of candles and the remains of Lady Emmeline’s beloved cat.


End file.
